


the reflective properties of ice

by neptunedemon



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Ice Adolescence (Yuri!!! on Ice), M/M, Reminiscing, Seaside Thoughts, Viktor POV, Winter Mornings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 16:16:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15146954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neptunedemon/pseuds/neptunedemon
Summary: Viktor takes an eary morning stroll.And he remembers.





	the reflective properties of ice

The snowed down streets of Saint Petersburg were trampled grey. Now, in the bleak pales of early morning, it was being covered in snowflakes like soft down. It fell gently, so much that Viktor could almost forget the chill brazing against the tops of cheeks where his scarf didn’t reach.

But still it was, in fact, as cold and dry as any Russian winter, and he stuffed his hands deep into his pockets. He should’ve worn gloves.

The motion tugged Makka’s leash and she cast a curious look back at him. She saw all was well and resumed sniffing the drifts of snow along the sides of the walk, pushed there by shovels and plows.

A lone car drove passed in the distance, tires crunching under the fresh-fallen snow. It was Saturday morning; not many would rise until a few hours from now.

Viktor didn’t know why he’d left the apartment and come out here, other than the restlessness in his chest. It’d been like a tug not on his heart, for he knew who his heart reached for; rather he’d noticed a pull on his lungs. They needed a breath of bright, dusty white air.

Yuuri was still sleeping in their new apartment, not quite adjusted to the time change. Viktor considered asking Yuuri to accompany him despite this, and despite the practice they had together later today at the rink, but his heart had spiraled into strange, warm pirouettes at the sight of his sleeping face, dark hair ruffled, blankets strewn half-off despite the fact that Viktor could’ve sworn he’d hoarded them all night.

So Viktor merely tucked the comforter snug around Yuuri, looked once more upon the face that made his insides dance, and grabbed his coat. Of course he made sure to leave a note of his walk on the kitchen table, just in case.

It was nice to have someone to leave a note for.

Viktor blinked, and suddenly Makka and he were standing facing the gulf sea. He’d let Makka lead them blindly, his eyes focused on the drifting snow and the strange type of delicate silence snowfall brought with it. A chilled salty breeze blew in off the water. Makka lifted her nose to it. Viktor’s scarf waved at the city behind them.

Then there was the strangest sense of déjà vu – the smallest notion of a memory long ago. For a moment Viktor remembered the tiniest scene. It’d been forgotten, he’d thought, because he certainly hadn’t recalled it until now. The memory was a flake among the fall. Had it not melted in the spring? And yet Viktor supposed even stream water finds its way back into the winter sky.

Some decade or so ago, he’d stood here a couple months after the Grand Prix, with goals for the next one being pushed onto him by Yakov.

He came here intent on showing his new puppy the sea, but forgot how the sea - especially mixed with the snow - was the perfect setting for pondering. And he’d pondered. The drips of feelings that’d formed in his chest after his win at the recent Grand Prix were things he thought he could shake off, but here exposed against the elements, they were crystallizing, becoming hardened fractals in his chest.

They hurt.

He’d gripped Makka’s leash tight against the cold stiffening his hands; she hadn’t noticed, and had pawed curiously at sandy snow.

The snowfall had picked up; briney wind stung his eyes, and the ice pelted his cheeks.

Here was the first time he stared up into frozen clouds with bloodshot eyes and wondered quite nothing at all, and realized that might mean something was missing.

He’d gone to practice later that morning. And again that afternoon.

And again nearly every day afterward, for years upon years.

Against the ice his blades skated on, within the cold he sold all his breaths to, he didn’t recognize the winterscape inside himself.

Here and now, the sun was trying to peak through a cloud. It had stopped snowing, and Makka was waiting patiently at his feet, because she knew it’s time to go home.

Indeed it was: there was a warm tugging on Viktor’s heart that turned him easily away from the sea that now glittered in the small morning light. 

Toward _someone_.

Yuuri.

It hadn’t been until much later than that day on the beach that the caverns of ice inside Viktor's chest finally thawed.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](http://twitter.com/neptunedemon) | [tumblr](http://skateonme.tumblr.com/)
> 
> thanks for reading this short lil fic <3 viktor is a character i struggle to relate to in a lot of ways. i'm really excited for this movie no matter what it is, because i think it will bring me closer to him, and i love that so much.


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